Oh, and Granger? Nice Tshirt
by Hedwig-Patronus
Summary: A Series of Awkward Encounters between Hermione and Blaise, Head Girl and Boy of Hogwarts. But for what reason are they awkward, and what will develop between the two? HG/BZ, Mentions of DM/AG and GW/HP. Set in their seventh year.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi, i'm ~Hedwig-Patronus and this is my first attempt at writing FanFiction! I hope you enjoy this, and please don't hesitate to give me constructive criticism, God knows i need it! Read and Review, it'll be much appreciated.**

**Disclaimer: I own none of J.K. Rowling's magical world. I'm only borrowing it.**

"Blaise? BLAISE!"

Blaise Zabini jerked himself out of his thoughts. He turned around irritably to the loud, whining voice of one Draco Malfoy, and snapped, "What?"

Draco smirked, and took a swig of butterbeer. He slowly and purposefully trained his eye onto the back of the girls head whom Blaise was currently ogling. The girl in question happened to have glossy, curly brown hair, which was currently swept up in a messy ponytail, displaying a creamy white neck.

"Having dirty thoughts about the Mud-... Granger again?" Draco hastily amended, when Blaises glare deeped considerably.

"Watch it, Malfoy." Blaise growled, picking up his own butterbeer, and downing it in one gulp. "I'm going back up to Hogwarts."

Blaise stood up, his chair scraping painfully over the stone floor, causing Draco to wince. He pulled his cloak around him, and gracefully swept out of the Three Broomsticks. Draco's eyes followed him out, and happened to notice that Granger was also watching Blaise leave the pub just as intently as he was. He smirked, and turned back around to Astoria, throwing his arm around her shoulders. She playfully smacked his shoulder, and said,

"You shouldn't tease him so, Draco!"

Draco put on a wounded expession "What? I was just asking a question!"

Hermione trudged into the Three Broomsticks behind Harry and Ron, who were chattering excitedly about the Quidditch match that had happened...a week ago.

"...And honestly, that dive that Ginny made at the end to catch the Quaffle, wow!" Harry exclaimed, starry eyed.

"...Which you've mentioned at least a dozen times before today.." grumbled Hermione, thankfully unheard by Harry and Ron.

"Yeah and did you see the save i made at the end? Boot's face was worth 50 points!" Ron boasted gleefully.

"...Which you mentioned on the walk down from the castle, TEN minutes ago!" Hermione snorted.

"What was that, 'Mione?" Harry asked.

"Oh, nothing, I was just saying that I really wanted a butterbeer, it's freezing out here!" She lied quickly, and thankfully - even though there was no doubt to begin with - Harry and Ron swallowed the lie happily, and agreed with her. They walked in, and looked for a table. Hermione quickly sat down at a small table near the door, much to Ron and Harry's disdain.

"Look, Malfoy and his cronies are just behind us 'Mione! Can't we sit somewhere else" Ron half hissed, half whined.

"No. the war is over Ron, its time to get over your prejudices, they certainly have. I'm friends with Astoria!" Hermione whispered hotly back, waving a little at Astoria to prove her point. Astoria smiled widely in return, and Hermione hastily averted her eyes as Blaise Zabini whipped around to see what has caught Astoria's attention. Feeling his eyes on her, Hermione blushed furiously, and, clearing her throat, asked the boys what they wanted. Harry was looking curiously at Blaise, who had now turned his attention back to whatever Malfoy was saying, while Ron just looked confused.

"Umm, butterbeer for me..." Harry trailed off, looked expectantly at Ron.

"Me too, 'Mione." Ron replied, still looking slightly lost.

Hermione stood up quickly, and walked over to the bar. Harry turned around to Ron, and asked,

"And idea whats on her mind, mate?"

"Not a clue..."

Hermione came back to the table, balancing 3 pints of butterbeer while huffing irritably. She sighed, "Harry! Help me out here, will you?"

Harry switched his attention to Hermione, helping her lower the pints onto the table. Hermione practically collapsed onto the chair, and sighed, loudly. Harry frowned again, and opened his mouth to ask what was bothering her. Hermione sensed the incoming question and frantically tried to think of an excuse, when thankfully, Ginny Weasley swooped down upon Harry, kissing his cheek, which promptly turned bright red. Ron started grumbling things under his breath, which sounded something like "my _bloody_ sister and my _bloody _best friend..." Hermione half sighed in relief, half laughed at Ron's mumblings. She chanced a glance over her shoulder, and caught dark eyes staring right into hers. For a moment, she was frozen. _Those eyes..Those LIPS!._ She whipped around, shaking her head to get rid of the not so innocent images of those lips on hers...Her breathing was slightly unsteady. _What is WRONG with you, girl? Pull yourself together!_ She scolded herself. She kept her eyes on her butterbeer, refusing to meet the eyes she could feel burning into her back. Then she heard a chair scraping loudly. She automatically turned her head towards the sound, and saw him sweeping towards the pub door. His walk was so graceful, she went into a kind of trance, watching him leave.

She was unaware of the other grey eyes watching her reaction. Shaking herself back into the present again, she turned towards Harry, Ron and Ginny, and feigned interest in their conversation. Her mind kept drifting to what had happened earlier...but no. She wouldn't think about him.

An hour later, Hermione was stumbling up to the Castle, hanging onto Ron's arm for support. She had never handled alcohol very well, and the shot of firewhiskey she had taken before leaving the pub made her dizzy. She was worried, _I hope we don't bump into a teacher!_ The sober part of her mind said. When they had reached the castle, Hermione waved goodbye to her friends, and made her way to the Heads' common room, which she shared with Blaise. She halted next to the small painting, which featured a beautiful Mermaid, not dissimilar to the one in the prefects' bathroom. "_ductus_" she whispered the password, and pushed her way into the room.

She looked round the common room, which she'd not quite gotten used to yet. The room was circular, not unlike the Gryffindor room, but instead of the raucous red, it was a deep royal purple. Hermione thought that the reason for the neutral colouring was due to there being a Gryffindor head girl and a Slytherin head boy. She didn't mind red, but it was nice to get a break from the loud colours of the Gryffindor common room, it was very distracting when she was trying to study. Purple was...calming.

Hermione treaded softly up the stairs at the opposite side of the room, which lead to a small landing. On one side there was Blaise's room, and on the other was hers. In the middle was a bathroom, which they both shared. She stared at Blaise's door for a long second, then shook her head and made her way into her own room. She gathered up her pyjamas, and tip-toed up along to the bathroom. She hurriedly brushed her teeth, washed her face, and changed into her pyjamas; a fitted forest green tshirt and a pair of dark grey cotton shorts. She chuckled slightly; how fitting it was that her favourite colour happened to be the colour of her former nemesis house. Peering in the mirror, she gathered all her hair and twisted it into a bun. Thank God she'd finally figured out a solution to keep it relatively tamed. With one last glance, she spun around and made her way to the door, when she froze. There was Blaise, casually leaning against the doorframe, smirking slightly as he looked at her.

She blushed as his eyes slowly took her in, head to toe, and back again. Her lips became dry, and she willed herself to keep her eyes on the floor, anything but stare at his perfectly sculpted chest, which he'd clearly not bothered to cover up. He cleared his throat.

"Are you done here? I need to brush my teeth." He said, half-smiling.

Hermione swallowed. "Yeah, i'm done. Goodnight, Blaise." She walked out the bathroom, hugging her arms, which were suddenly covered in goosebumps, and made her way to her bedroom. Tugging the door shut behind her, she made her way over to her four-poster bed and collapsed on top of it, her head spinning from both the alcohol in her system, and the encounter with the guy she'd been, without a better word, besotted with for over two years.

She'd paused in her inner jubilation after reading that she had been elected to be Head Girl, and blinked, surprised, when she saw the name of the chosen Head Boy on the congratulatory parchment sent to her at the end of summer. She wasn't altogether sure if the idea of sharing the Head's common room with Blaise made her happy or terrified. Biting her lip, she shook out her shiny new badge from the envelope, and stared at the shiny badge, stating her new duty of "Head Girl". Tuning back into the babble of conversation, she plastered a fake smile on her face, and declared to her practically adopted family, the Weasleys; "I'm Head Girl!"

Blaise stood at the bathroom door, which Hermione had obviously forgotten to close properly. He knew he should probably make his presence known, but he was hypnotised by her actions. How could she make sweeping her hair back look so _damn hot_? He stared at her slender neck, and then realised that she was turning around. He quickly composed his expression, just in time for Hermione noticing him. He smirked as he noticed her reaction to his -lack of- attire, and mentally congratulated himself on working out that morning. His smile became even wider as he noticed her absent-mindedly licking her lips, those plump, rosy lips that he wanted to -_WHAT ON EARTH._ Blaise shook his head slightly to remove the sudden image from his head. Deciding to break the silence, he make an excuse for wanting to use the bathroom, and then watched her walk out, swinging her hips gently as she went. He groaned softly to himself, and resignedly began the task he had used as an excuse, despite that he had done it only twenty minutes before.

Hermione's eyes flew open, quickly adjusting to the dim light filtering through a gap in her curtains. Her breathing was shallow and uneven. She tried to remember her dream, but it was really hazy. The only thing that really stood out in her subconscious memory was a pair of dark brown eyes smiling at her...Hermione shook her head, ridding herself from the fleeting memory. She leant over to her beside table to check the time on her clock. 4.06am. Knowing that she'd struggle in returning to sleep, Hermione flung her heavy covers off her, and padded softly across the room and out to the communal area. Not bothering to light a candle, she used instinct and the dawn light to guide her in making tea. She was sleepy, and decided to use the more therapeutic muggle way of making tea, rather than the magical way, she'd probably mess it up in her tired state.

A gentle cough.

Hermione spun around, startled. Blaise was sitting on one of the arm chairs in the sitting area, his arms stretched and resting at the back of his neck, meaning that his t-shirt had ridden up slightly and she could see a sliver of tanned, toned stomach...Her breathing hitched, and she stuttered

"B-Blaise! I didn't realise y-you were in here!" She mumbled, blushing furiously as she realised he'd caught her staring, as he gazed at her with a sly, knowing expression. "Um...would you like a cup of Jasmine Earl Grey tea? I was just making some before i got back to bed so.."

"Sure..." He drawled, taking in her dishevelled, bed crumpled appearance. She was well aware that her hair was probably looking completely crazy, and she self-consciously attempted to smooth it down.

"Leave it. Your hair looks cute like that" Blaise smiled at her warmly, catching her off guard. _Did he just compliment me? _Hermione thought to herself, baffled.

"Errr...thanks Blaise." Awkward silence. She cleared her throat, smiling brightly and changing the subject. "Milk or Sugar?"

Blaise looked at her, a strangle, unreadable expression on his face. "Nah, i'm fine."

Hermione handed him his mug, smiling shyly as she did so. Their hands touched briefly, and Hermione felt a sort of warm glow as their fingers ghosted against each other. _His hands were so soft...i wonder what it would feel like cupping my face as he leant down to ki-_

Blaise cleared his throat, interrupting her thoughts. "Well, thanks Granger. I'll see you in the morning. Head duties and such."

He winked, and began walking back to his dorm. Hermione let out her breath that she hadn't realised she'd been holding, and turned back to making another cup of tea, seeing as she'd given Blaise her one. When she heard his voice again, about 10 seconds later, she froze;

"Oh, and Granger, nice t-shirt."


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the ridiculously long delay! I had completely forgotten about developing the story, and was overwhelmed by the fact that i'd even got a few really kind reviews for my first chapter! Thank you so much to whoever read, reviewed and favourited my story, it means a lot!**

**Anyway, I hope the second chapter is to your satisfaction, and hopefully worth the wait. Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of J.K Rowling's wonderful world or characters. It is but an impossible wish.**

Hermione's eyes snapped open. Her mind reeling and her heart dropping, she subconsciously knew that she was late, and the dream she'd been so rudely awakened from faded from her mind, a dream of dark, laughing eyes. She whipped her head around wildly, towards her alarm clock.

_Shit! Ten minutes until class starts!_

She leaped up, grabbed her wash bag and make up bag and rushed to the bathroom door, wrenching it open and slamming the door shut behind her. She splashed her face with cold water, quickly brushing her teeth and haphazardly tying her hair up in a messy bun. A quick layer of mascara later and she was rushing back out the bathroom, and quickly got dressed. She checked her clock again, and sighed in relief when she realised that she now had three minutes to spare. Gathering up her books, her timetable and grabbing an apple from the common room table, she flew out of the head's dormitory, without noticing the same pair of dark brown eyes from her dream watching her flurried movements with amusement from the sofa.

_Oh Granger, it's Sunday._ Blaise thought to himself, chuckling and stretching himself out on the sofa, sighing and enjoying his unfamiliar, yet welcoming surroundings. He shut his eyes, a smirk on his face.

No more than 10 minutes later, he heard the dorm door slam shut, and footsteps stomping on the stone floor. He opened his eyes, and quirked an eyebrow, as Hermione strode towards her bedroom.

"Back to bed then Granger?" Blaise called, amusement evident in his voice.

He saw her stiffen. "...Yes." Hermione muttered, cheeks reddening, as she finally noticed Blaise, and guessed as such that he'd seen her frantic movements ten minutes earlier. Mustering up the little dignity she had left, she halfheartedly glared at him, and continued walking to her room.

He smirked, knowing that if she'd seen his expression just there, then angry words might've ensued. Blaise wasn't as stupid as Draco, who seemed to have pressed Granger's anger button so often the warning sign had evidently worn off. Blaise tried to avoid making her angry, instead enjoying watching the passion in her face, the angry blush, and the hair practically crackling with electricity whenever Draco pissed her off. Fortunately for Blaise, this seemed to happen almost every time the pair crossed paths, so he didn't have to resort to making her angry by himself. She really did look amazing when she was hazy with annoyance. _Typical Gryffindor temper_ he thought to himself.

Hermione flopped onto her bed, cheeks blazing. _That was so bloody embarrassing!_ She exclaimed to herself, face palming at the same time. She'd promised herself to appear dignified and aloof in front of Blaise after her reactions to him last night, and already her plans were failing. Hermione usually manages to follow a self-made plan, but Blaise just put her on edge. She sighed, irritated at the head boy but mainly at herself. She rolled over onto her back, not making an effort to change out of her uniform, and drifted back to sleep.

**tap! tap! tap!**

Hermione opened her eyes sleepily, and looked towards the window, where an owl was standing waiting for her impatiently to open the window. She recognised it as Hooter, Harry's new fluffy grey owl. She offered Hooter an owl snack, which he gobbled up quickly, affectionately nipping her finger and then lived up to his name by hooting loudly, before flying out of the still open window. She opened up the note, recognising Harry's scrawl immediately.

_Hey 'Mione! _

_I know you're likely a bit hungover and tired today after last night, but seeing as it's Sunday and a lovely day Ginny, Ron and I were wondering if you'd like to come and play Quidditch with us! Or at least, if you really don't want to, go to the pitch with a book just to hang out!_

_Love, Harry x_

Hermione smiled ruefully. Harry was indeed right about the hangover, it wasn't too bad but she was rather tired still. She figured that she'd get herself ready properly, and do as Harry suggested by bringing a book along. It would be nice to chill out with her friends, without Mrs Weasley fussing over them all, and without the pressure of everyone staring at them in the Great Hall, after all.

After sorting herself out, she spent a few minutes trying to choose a book. Her hand grazed over the extensive collection of books she owned, and she decided to choose a muggle classic, _Pride and Prejudice._ She was a big fan of most muggle classic novels, as they way of life in those days were strangely similar to the ways of the Purebloods. She smirked at the knowledge that Muggles were in fact, in matters of technology and fashion, way ahead of the Wizarding World, and she knew such a revelation would horrify the likes of Pansy and Draco.

Leaving her room, she heaved a sigh of relief on realising Blaise's absence from the common room. She didn't want to meet Harry, Ginny and Ron looking all frazzled. She meandered down to the Quidditch pitch, which was strange for her to look at when empty, as the only time she was ever at the pitch was when she was obliged to attend the Gryffindor matches. Seeing her friends hover above her, she waved and whistled for their attention, and on noticing her they all simultaneously flew down to greet her.

After exchanging words, she shooed them off, and settled herself down on one of the lower benches, ironically in the Slytherin zone. She opened her book and began to read, being sucked into the fictional world, occasionally glancing up whenever Harry, Ginny or Ron yelled, breaking her concentration. She felt really relaxed, the air was cold but it was sunny, her favourite kind of weather. Suddenly a shadow engulfed the page she was reading, and she looked up automatically, and was welcomed with the sight of a smiling Blaise.

She babbled, disarmed by the sight of him. "Oh, hi! How are you? Sorry about this morning, I must of looked like a right twa-"

"May I sit?" He cut in smoothly, interrupted what was sure to be a long and pointless tirade of awkward one sided conversation.

"Oh! Um, sure." She stuttered, moving her bag to clear the seat next to her. He settled down, and they sat in companionable, yet slightly awkward silence.

"I've never really seen the point in Quidditch really." He stated, his husky voice thankfully breaking the silence.

"Me too! I mean, I enjoy the team spirit of it, but the idea of being up there kind of terrifies me" She replied, with a light laugh, inwardly amazed at the fact that there was a wizard who didn't appreciate Quidditch! _Who would've thought_, she mused, smiling slightly.

"Can't really say I can imagine you flying Granger, you seem suited to the ground, and always armed with a book" He bantered back, indicating her current position with his own chuckle.

She smiled, nodding. "I'm much happier with my feet firmly planted on the ground. What about you though? I've rarely heard of a wizard who doesn't like Quidditch!"

He looked thoughtful for a moment, and took time to form an answer. Hesitantly, in a gruff kind of voice, he admitted something he'd never told anyone else before, because he knew that no one really understood...

"I'm scared of heights..." He murmured wincing and peeking at her to gauge her reaction. He saw no shocked expression, no mirth, just a thoughtful kind of look.

"How so? As in, do you know what caused your fear or is it simply an irrational fear?" She asked, genuinely curious.

Again, he took a little time to answer. This was something she'd noticed about Blaise, the fact that he always thought about what he was going to say, rather than blurting out things, a trait of Ron's which annoyed and often hurt her. She liked the idea that he took care to answer.

Breaking her out of her musing, Blaise finally answered the question. "It's rather silly really. My first stepfather thought it would be a good bonding experience to teach me how to fly when I was about eight years old. I was already quite uneasy about being high up, and the fact that he thought it would be fun to shoot past the clouds and back down again with me clinging on for dear life pretty much sealed the deal on my fear of heights." He laughed bitterly. "He was quite a prat, never really liked him. Mother wasn't very happy when I stumbled into the kitchen and threw up on her new shoes straight afterwards."

Hermione just stared at him throughout his anecdote. She was astounded at the fact that he'd shared quite intimate information with him, it presented a human quality to him that she'd never quite experienced before. A vulnerability that was never present in his standard aloof persona. This new development only served to make him appeal to her more.

Suddenly he cleared his throat, and stood up.

"Best be getting back, I have reading to do" He said gruffly, a slight pinkish tinge to his cheeks. She sensed that he was a bit embarrassed by what he'd just told her, so she simply smiled, nodded, and reached over to gently squeeze his hand. His eyes widened at her touch, as a feeling of warmth spread through both their fingers, and he squeezed back with a smile of his own. He turned around, and headed back to the castle, leaving Hermione lost in her thoughts on the bench stand.


End file.
